Such Sweet Thunder
by Weapon of Choice
Summary: Fires are taking out churches in rural areas and they may just take out a character if they're not careful. For all you lovebirds, Damien and Shelley FINALLY get together in this one.
1. The Kidnapping

A/N  
  
I threw this together incredibly fast just to get my next story started. Everything is still the same, I don't own anything, blah blah blah. Thanks everyone for your concern about my finals. You're so sweet.  
  
WoC  
  
  
  
Midterms were coming and I was having a slight panic attack. All the studying in the world never seemed like enough. I kept hibernating in the library so much that the few friends I had rarely saw me. I was even out studying Damien, which was no mean feat. I think he was finally worried about me because he decided to put an end to it.  
  
"Come on, love," Damien "Sherlock" Holmes said in his heavy English accent as he hauled me up from a couch in the study room, "you study any more and your eyes are going to fall out."  
  
All my protests weren't accomplishing anything because Damien had brought his stepbrother Micah as backup.  
  
Damien and Micah were quite opposites in a lot of ways. Damien looked like he had been expertly crafted somewhere, well built with a swimmer's type body, high cheekbones, and clear complexion. I noticed that his dark hair was growing out a little so that the curliness of it was visible. Micah on the other hand was a good 6' 2''. He verged almost on being gangly, but not quite. He had dyed his hair jet black and had several piercings in the cartilage of his ear and one in his lip. With a well-made mouth and sapphire blue eyes, he was every bit as good looking as his stepbrother. I would have said they came out of a good gene pool except they came from totally different ones. Not that they always got along terrifically well. They were working on it though. It seemed that finding that they shared a common interest in crime solving helped. That's where I fit in. I was supposedly their common sense when they went plunging in to dangerous stuff. I wasn't always good common sense.  
  
"Stop," I moaned, "I need to study."  
  
"You were right," Micah put in with mock concern, "she's as bad as you said. She's going downhill fast."  
  
I shook off Sherlock's grip only for the two boys to exchange looks and Damien to grab me around the waist and flip me over his shoulder. From my extremely upside-down position, I could see Micah gathering my books and giving friendly waves to the other occupants of the room who were now watching the commotion with interest.  
  
"Put me down!" I demanded, my voice muffled by Damien's back.  
  
"Not a chance," he returned. I could almost hear the smile in his voice.  
  
I would have struggled a lot harder and been a lot more offended if I didn't harbor the biggest crush ever on Sherlock. We had started out just being friends, but when Micah entered the picture showing some interest in me, my feelings for Damien were suddenly prioritized.  
  
"Are you going to put her down?" Micah said when we reached the parking lot.  
  
"She'd only run," Sherlock said turning towards Micah then back towards his car. If he kept up too much of that he was going to give me motion sickness. I sighed and went limp. Sometimes it just wasn't worth the effort.  
  
Damien flipped me onto the back seat of his Mustang and jumped behind the wheel.  
  
"You might want to get out on the main roads pretty quick," I heard Micah say, "she may try to jump out at low speeds."  
  
They were really having way too much fun with this.  
  
"All right, you win," I sighed, "now where are we going?"  
  
"You're going to dinner and a movie and you're going to like it," Sherlock playfully threatened.  
  
Whether he knew it or not, and whether I wanted to or not, I figured it wasn't going to be too much of a stretch for me to like it.  
  
"There's also something else in the way of crime I found to preoccupy you too," Damien added. If he only knew how much just he himself preoccupied me he'd be scared stiff.  
  
I smiled to myself. As long as I was kidnapped, might as well enjoy myself. 


	2. Dinner for Three

A/N  
  
Micah seems to be quite the bachelor of the moment. If he were real I'm sure he'd be pleased. I'm quite gratified that everyone likes he and Damien as much as they do. That means I did my job right.  
  
WoC  
  
  
  
I poked at the remainder of my spaghetti while I listened to Damien and Micah. Their attention was quite gratifying and I again congratulated myself on having two very exceptional friends.  
  
Amazing I had Sherlock as a friend at all, he was so anti social. Yet something between him and I had really clicked. Unfortunately for me, my friendship had moved to something more than just clicking. The story of my life.  
  
"Hullo, earth to Shelley," I heard the male in question saying.  
  
"Huh?" I said.  
  
"I said it was an arson case. Three rural churches have been burned down and there were unmistakable signs of arson. There were gasoline traces and signs of breaking and entering. There's been no pattern except that the fires were definitely arson," Damien said as he ate another breadstick. I wondered momentarily where they put it all. It seems like a normal stomach couldn't hold as much as men consumed.  
  
"She's drifting again, Dame. You really must be a boring storyteller," Micah said smugly.  
  
Sherlock shot is brother a look then looked back at me, "Do you want to hear this or not?"  
  
"I was just debating men's eating habits, continue," I said. If there was one thing Damien was needy about, it was having attention directly on him when he was trying to say something he thought was important.  
  
"I want you to come out with me to one of the churches," he said, "Micah has classes all day and can't come with us. I'd like to have your opinion."  
  
"And what do I know about arson?" I questioned.  
  
"Enough to keep me company."  
  
"All right," I said, "fair enough."  
  
I noticed Micah glancing covertly from me to Damien again. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Either he was neurotic or he was on to me. I figured it was the latter. I had wondered on occasion if I should just confess to Micah what was going on, but I always chickened out. I think he already knew though, and, like any other stupidly in love person, I wanted to know if Sherlock ever said anything to him. For Pete's sake, they shared a room. It made me want to throttle the truth out of him, but in doing that I would give away my position. Love is a cruel mistress. Or something like that. Sometimes telepathy seemed like a good idea.  
  
"So what are we going to watch?" Micah finally said.  
  
They really were being sweet, I had to give them that. It was my turn to make their night a little more enjoyable. I know both of them were expecting me to pick some chick movie to rent, but I knew how to compromise.  
  
"Fight Club," I said.  
  
"You're an excellent woman," Damien said as he and Micah grinned at me. 


	3. Crash and Burn

The next day Damien and I pulled up at a burned out hull of a church. Fire had completely gutted the building. Shattered glass and fallen down timber littered the ground. Yellow police caution tape decorated everything.  
  
"They did a number on this one," I commented as we got out of the car.  
  
"Yeah," Sherlock said, "there's nothing left to even fix."  
  
Church members were gathered on the grounds trying to make a dent in the massive cleaning process necessary. We carefully made our way through the debris looking for the pastor of the church. We finally found a man with graying hair that seemed to be heading up the clean up job.  
  
"Pastor Douglas?" Damien asked the man.  
  
"Yes," the man said, pushing his glasses up on his nose, "can I help you?"  
  
"We're here from the police," Sherlock said, "can you tell us anything about the fire?"  
  
The pastor pushed his glasses up on his nose again, "It happened while no one was here," he said, "there isn't much I can tell you."  
  
"Does anyone besides you have access to the inside of the building?" I asked.  
  
"No," he said, "there is only one set of keys and I have them. The fire department could only guess that the fire was started on the outside. Either that or someone broke in a window."  
  
About this time a boy about 16 or 17 came up.  
  
"What do they want, Dad?" he said to Pastor Douglas.  
  
"Evan! Mind your manners," the pastor said shortly, "they're here from the police."  
  
Evan immediately eyed us with hostility.  
  
"This is my son, Evan," Pastor Douglas explained.  
  
The short, blond boy looked from me to Damien and back again. Damien took it upon himself to stare down the boy. Evan eventually looked away. I learned quickly from observance that it wasn't wise to challenge Sherlock to anything like a staring match. He'd win every time. He was too intense to back down.  
  
Damien grabbed me by the elbow and steered me into the direction of the burned out church. He ducked under the police tape and held it for me.  
  
"The fire department said that the fire looked like it started from the inside. They can't tell anything for sure because this one was so badly burned, but they're guessing that. Gasoline all over the place; too charred to tell if anything was taken. Whoever did this did a good job."  
  
"Or a bad job, depending from which angle you're looking at it," I muttered.  
  
Damien grunted and began poking around the debris.  
  
"There isn't anything here," he said in disgust, "come on."  
  
I followed him out of the building.  
  
"We still have two more churches to look at before we head back. It's getting late," Sherlock said as we headed back to the Mustang.  
  
"Are we going to get back before dark?" I asked.  
  
"Don't know," he said, "don't know." 


	4. The Dangerous Development

A/N  
  
My computer was down with a virus so the last post was a long time in coming. I also didn't have Micah in it. Awwww… This one doesn't either. I'm thinking about making a story with him as the main character because he's gone over so well. Get him a girl or something. I personally love working with Damien right now though, so it may be a while.  
  
WoC  
  
The second church had already been bulldozed, much to the annoyance of Damien. He was already irritable from the first church incident and this development didn't really help. I decided not to talk. No sense in bringing his wrath down on me. When he had to slam on his brakes for a dog in the road and cursed, I finally decided to say something.  
  
"Can you cool it?" I asked, putting a hand on his arm.  
  
He looked over at me and flushed a little.  
  
"Sorry," he said, glancing down at my hand on his arm.  
  
Now it was my turn to get embarrassed. I yanked my hand back and folded them in my lap. Damien looked at me a little puzzled; it wasn't like I hadn't touched him before. It was just weird now.  
  
I sat quietly in the passenger seat until we reached the third church. It was in better shape than any of the other ones. It was getting dark and no one was there. We wandered into the building. Sherlock began poking around again. I had no idea what he was looking for. I kicked around some debris on the floor and suddenly saw a piece of material. It was blue and looked like it had been torn from a t-shirt. I stuffed it in my pocket.  
  
"Find anything?" I asked as I walked over to Damien.  
  
"Not what I wanted," he grumbled.  
  
Great, just what I needed, Damien in a worse mood. I turned and wandered down the burned out sanctuary to the door in the front. I looked at the lock closely. There was duct tape melted over the latch. What the heck?  
  
"Hey Dame," I said, "come here."  
  
Sherlock started to walk down the aisle towards me when suddenly someone darted out from behind the burned pulpit and straight at Damien. I only had time to point and give a little shout when the figure slammed into him hard. Caught off guard, Damien smashed into the stained glass window, shattering it and sliding to the floor. The figure shoved past me as I moved towards Damien. Frankly I didn't care, I was worried about Sherlock.  
  
He was sort of sitting on the floor looking rather stunned.  
  
"Damien!" I said frantically as I slid down next to him.  
  
I reached around his back and it came back wet with blood. His back was bleeding from various glass cuts.  
  
"I'm all right," he said, staggering up, "make sure he didn't do anything to the car."  
  
I ran out to the Mustang only to see the tires slashed. I turned around to Damien who had come up right behind me. I looked up at him and his eyes narrowed as he looked at his car. He spat out a curse and moved gingerly over to the disable vehicle.  
  
"Call Micah," he said with a sigh.  
  
It was going to be a long night. 


	5. Fire of a Different Kind

A/N  
  
It is the chapter everyone has been waiting for and the chapter I have planned on writing since I started this series. I expect everyone to have input on this chapter. It was a long time in coming.  
  
WoC  
  
Damien leaned back and flinched when his back touched the wall of the outside of the church. The sun had gone almost completely gone down while we waited for Micah. I hopped up and dug around in the car for the first aid kit.  
  
"Damien I need to see your back," I said as I dropped down next to him.  
  
"I'd rather you not," he said weakly.  
  
"Fine Damien," I snapped, "let it get infected so you can die in agony. You would want to go out a martyr."  
  
He paused then finally slowly turned around and pulled his shirt off. I'd seen Damien without a shirt before, but is was always from the front. Aside from washboard abs, I'd never noticed anything unusual. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. His back was a different story entirely. It wasn't just the glass cuts; his lower back was plowed with scars.  
  
"My father," Sherlock answered the unspoken question, "I got in the way a couple times when he was hitting Mum."  
  
My eyes filled and I blinked back tears. He rarely talked about that part of his past.  
  
"You've got a tattoo," I said quickly changing the subject.  
  
Damien nodded and winced as I put ointment on the cuts. On his shoulder blade was a small tattoo of a dragon.  
  
"I didn't know you had on. Did it hurt?"  
  
He shrugged, "Not too bad."  
  
I couldn't help but let my fingers slide down to where the skin on his back buckled unevenly with the scars.  
  
"Damien, I'm so sorry," I whispered.  
  
He turned and looked at me with almost unspeakable pain. I pulled him into my arms and felt him sob silently and dryly on my shoulder.  
  
"I've always been so afraid of hurting someone like my father hurt my mother," he said finally, "I don't want to turn into him."  
  
"You're not him Damien," I soothed, "you're the farthest thing from him I can think of."  
  
"I don't know if I can stay that way," he said seriously.  
  
"Damien, I trust you. I'd trust you with my life without thinking, and I don't trust anyone."  
  
He looked at me and I suddenly leaned in and kissed him. I had intended it to be a peck, but Damien responded and it was suddenly a passionate, full kiss. I felt his hands slide around my waist as I pulled one of mine through his hair.  
  
The moment was broken by headlights. We both jerked away from each other shocked and gasping. I jumped up to see Micah pull up in his jeep.  
  
Talk about timing. 


	6. Duct Tape

After they fixed the tires, I rode back with Micah. Damien didn't argue so I guess he felt as uncomfortable as I did.  
  
After a few minutes, Micah's suppressed smile broke into a full-fledged grin.  
  
"So what exactly did I drive up on?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know," I groaned, "one minute I was pulling glass out of his back and the next minute, well, you saw."  
  
Micah looked entirely too pleased about what he had seen, "I wondered how long it would take the two of you. I figured Dame would be the slow one."  
  
I gasped in shock horror, "Are you suggesting I'm easy?"  
  
"No, just that Damien doesn't trust himself as much as you do," he said.  
  
I sighed, "Well, I've just managed to complicate one friendship. Wanna make out so I can make it two by the end of the evening?"  
  
Micah laughed, "I don't think you complicated it anymore than it already was complicated. As for making out with you, I'd take you up on it except for these pesky seatbelts."  
  
I finally laughed. The whole situation was rather ridiculous.  
  
"Besides," Micah continued, "I didn't see him trying to throw you off of him."  
  
That was true. I could still feel his hands around my waist and felt myself blushing again.  
  
"Did you find anything there or was your entire time preoccupied with extra curricular activities," he asked.  
  
I glared at him even though I knew he couldn't see me in the dark.  
  
"For your information, I found duct tape melted to the door," I said.  
  
"So someone kept the door open and the fires were starting from the inside," Micah said pensively.  
  
"Which means it was a congregate," I answered.  
  
"Who would want to burn down their own church?" Micah put in.  
  
"Not their own church; churches," I said, " they've burned down three."  
  
"Tell Damien you need to question the members on who would have been at each church on Sundays, though I figure he would have thought of that already unless your little encounter with him fried his brain cells," Micah said as he pulled up at the dorm.  
  
I shot him another dirty look.  
  
"I don't think I kiss that well," I said sarcastically.  
  
"I think Dame is going to have to be the judge of that," Micah said wickedly then darted out of the way as I swatted at him. 


	7. The Ultimate Conclusion

The next afternoon I found Damien in the downstairs study room, head slumped against the side of the sofa, economics textbook in hand. He was completely asleep. Economics will do that to you.  
  
"Damien," I said, shaking his shoulder.  
  
His eyes jerked open and he blearily tried to focus them on me. He looked confused then recognized me and reddened a little.  
  
"Huh?" he said, raking a hand through his rather unruly mass of hair.  
  
"Have you talked to Micah?" I asked.  
  
"Not since he…" Damien stopped and fumbled for words, "…he…since we…since the tires were fixed."  
  
It was rather amusing to see the normally very arrogant, very collected Damien Holmes embarrassed and struggling for words. Men can be very cute when they're confused. Heck, Damien was gorgeous without being confused.  
  
I explained Micah's theory. Damien just watched me, nodding occasionally.  
  
"I thought of that already," he said finally, "which is why I've asked everyone in charge of the five remaining churched to monitor everyone who comes in this week. I think I've found a match."  
  
"Someone who's been to all three?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, "all three, and could easily show up at another and not be noticed."  
  
"Why?" I asked.  
  
"Because he's a preacher's son," Damien said.  
  
"Evan," I stated more than asked. Damien nodded.  
  
"He was at all three burned churches," Damien said, "but the only way anyone will make a charge stick is to catch him at it. I figure he has friends in on the deal, but I have no idea who they are."  
  
"Hence, if you figure out which church he's going to this time, you'll know where to send the police to watch," I finished.  
  
"Exactly," Damien said with a smile. He leaned his head back against the sofa and momentarily watched me through lowered lashes. I hovered between indecision as to whether to leave or attempt to address what had happened last night.  
  
"Damien, I …" I wavered off. He was giving me an unreadable expression. Suddenly Damien reached around my shoulders and pulled me back to lean against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt him kiss the top of my head as he pulled me as close as possible.  
  
"I know," he said, "I'm a coward when it comes to anything sensitive."  
  
"You're not now," I offered.  
  
"Not for lack of trying."  
  
I smiled and hugged him tighter. 


End file.
